


One is Silver...

by ioanite



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Other, Prompt Fill, Tron Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ioanite/pseuds/ioanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even with CLU gone, there are still some programs other programs fear. Trouble is, they're actually on the side of good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One is Silver...

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Tron Kink Meme, for the prompt: 
> 
> "Any/Any
> 
> Antivirus software is used to prevent, detect, and remove computer viruses, worms, and trojan horses as well as removing spyware and malware. This could mean that they are 'doctor' figures but I prefer to think of them as a sort of specialized soldier program that hunts down and eliminates viruses with cold-blooded ruthlessness; their concern being only for the preservation of the System.
> 
> So what happens when a character - favorites would be either CLU or Quorra - encounters such a program? "

It all seemed so simple, from the top.

After Sam Flynn became CEO of ENCOM, one of his first acts was to round up all the programmers into his office. He told them that he had been going through the system and found some corrupted files and programs that, while they hadn’t affected the computers, could have turned into a bigger problem if he hadn’t caught them. After a gentle scolding, he told them he wanted each programmer to come up with a anti-viral/corruption detecting program that would prevent such a thing from happening again. Eager to impress the boss, all the programmers leaped into action.

On the due date, Sam called all of them back in to see what they’d come up with. One programmer, an older man named Peter McGregor, turned in a program he called “Tortoise”, since it functioned under the basic motto of “slow and steady”. Tortoise took a long time to run—most of the 8 hour workday—but it never missed a thing. Any hint of corruption, even the tiniest problem with a single line of code, would be caught by it. Sam thought he had found a winner.

Until Daisy Davidson, the only senior female programmer in ENCOM, presented “Silver”.

Silver was short for “Quicksilver” (like everyone else in ENCOM, Davidson was a bit of a comics nerd) and the program lived up to the name. It could zip through the entire system in half-an-hour, and immediately quarantine any corrupted program. Sam, after thinking about it for a moment, decided to implement Silver and Tortoise as a double safety net. Tortoise would run first, identifying the problems, then Silver would quarantine the programs, keeping them out of harm’s way until the next workday, when it would be decided if the corrupted files would be fixed or removed. Everyone, even the other programmers, was delighted with the new fail-safe.

Once installed, it worked like a charm. People quickly started calling the feature “Tortoise and Hare”, though Sam and Davidson still called the other program Silver. Thanks to the combined efforts of the programs, any lingering viruses were completely wiped out. Within two months, the only programs popping up in quarantine were ones with tiny code corruptions, easily fixed in five minutes.

Then one day, the primary motherboard malfunctioned and had to be replaced. When the system was back online, everyone knew there would probably be a few lingering problems. Sure enough, employees soon started complaining that their media players were skipping songs, like a damaged CD, which was affecting their productivity (Sam had become quite popular among workers when he allowed them to listen to music while they worked). Indeed, Tortoise’s final report confirmed that the MP3 system was damaged.

Sam nodded at the final report, clicking “OK”. A new screen popped up immediately:

ACTIVATE SILVER TO QUARANTINE DAMAGED PROGRAMS?

Sam lingered over the YES button for a moment, feeling an odd sense of unease. He’d asked for these programs so he could prevent another collapse of the Grid, prevent another CLU, but this time it felt like he’d be doing more harm than good. Then again, he didn’t want angry subordinates, and he himself missed listening to driving Rock music while going over reports, so after a shake of the head, he clicked YES.

It all seemed so simple, from the top. Inside, it was a different story.

***

Silver stood at the entrance to the holding cells, drumming her fingers on her hip. She knew Tortoise was always thorough and methodical (and she respected him for it), but that didn’t mean that she liked the wait.

At last, she heard the hum of the lightcycle, and straightened up eagerly. Tortoise braked in front of her, giving her a wry smile. “Good to see you, Silver.”

“What have you got?” she said, holding out her hand. He placed a pad into it. “Mostly just the usual glitches and errors. However, there is one that may be something more serious. Line ten.”

Silver looked at the line in question, and a gleam came into her eyes. “Oh, this is big. This is very big.”

“Take it easy, Silver,” Tortoise warned her, “The program may be corrupted, but it’s not one that will do much damage. Be gentle, all right?”

Silver rolled her eyes and pulled her hood over her head (she felt it gave her a more imposing air, even if it wasn’t exactly required for the job). “Yes, motherboard.”

Tortoise chuckled softly. “Now go get ‘em.”

Silver went into the adjoining hanger and got into the repurposed recognizer. Easing it out gently, she once again cursed the nature of her work. Due to the need to bring back the corrupted programs, she had been stuck with the recognizer, when what she really wanted was to take a spin on the lightcycle. During their unexpected downtime several Millicycles ago, Tortoise had let her ride his, and the feeling was exhilarating. The controls of the recognizer seemed clunky in comparison. Shaking her head, she returned to the matter at hand.

She dealt with the smaller corruptions first, grabbing them firmly by the arm or wrist and dragging them to the recognizer, ignoring their protests, then binding them securely. Then, licking her lips in anticipation, she turned the recognizer towards the End of Line. She always enjoyed the big ones.

Upon reaching the club, she gave a warning glare to the other captives, daring them to escape, then took herself down. Being no barbarian, she went in through the front door.

The club was beginning to fill up, but there wasn’t a huge crowd as yet. Good; that would make the job easier. Smirking, she took down her hood.

The effect was both immediate and eminently satisfying. A panicked murmur ran through the crowd as everyone realized she was there, and programs backed away from her, trying to keep their distance. Those at the bar immediately turned their backs to her, pretending to be absorbed in their glasses of energy.

“I must say, you do know how to make an entrance, my dear.”

Silver looked up to see Castor coming down from his office, arms spread wide in welcome. The pixelbit had the nerve to look unconcerned by her presence. Why Tortoise had never declared him corrupted, she’d never know. Masking her irritation, she merely held his gaze. “Good to see you again, Castor.”

“Yes, it’s been what, nearly ten millicycles since I last saw you in here! Can I fetch you a drink, my dear?”

“I don’t drink on duty, Castor. I’m here on business.”

“Ah.” For the first time, Castor’s eyes flicked away nervously. “Of course. Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Just try not to let them break anything this time.”

Silver smiled humorlessly. “You know who I’m here for, Castor. And I feel it’s only right to give you fair warning that I’m taking him.”

The gleam in Castor’s eyes had taken on a hard edge. “He’s as much a part of this club as I am. End of Line will be sorely lacking without him.”

“If he’s fixable, he’ll be back by tomorrow. If not, you’ll have to find someone else. That’s how it works here.”

“I can’t let you…”

“Can’t?” Silver laughed and stepped forward, gratified when she saw him back away a little, “Dear Castor, you don’t have much of a choice.” Her hand shot out and grabbed his cane, ripping it out of his fingers. “Now, out of my way.”

With that, she swung the cane at him, connecting satisfyingly against his side. She hadn’t struck him hard enough to derezz him, just enough to knock him out of the way and leave him dazed. She fondled the cane, looking down at the groaning program on the floor. “I’ll be keeping this until the program is secured. Until then, don’t go anywhere. We wouldn’t want you injured more than necessary, now would we?”

She glanced around at the other programs in the club (who immediately recoiled back in fear), and mounted the stairs.

***

In the booth that also doubled as their home, the MP3’s (known simply as 1 and 2) were oblivious to what was going on inside the club proper. At 1’s request, they had blacked out their viewscreen, focusing instead on the music. And for once, there had actually been a need for it; they had been having some trouble producing the music in tandem. Every so often, the music would stutter unexpectedly, or just not come out altogether.

2 was fiddling with the knobs and dials in front of them, and occasionally checking the wires to see if there was a problem with their equipment. 1 kept his eyes focused on the dials, taking advantage of 2’s brief disappearances to cough, wincing every time he caught sight of the red data that had leaked out of his body.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “ALL RIGHT?” 2’s helmet asked him, hand squeezing in a friendly way. 1 nodded in what he hoped was a reassuring way, then quickly lowered his head back down to the soundboard.

The door to the booth slammed open, causing both MP3’s to whip round. A program with light gold circuits and a small plus sign on her collarbone was standing in the doorway, Zeus’ cane in one hand. They recognized her, of course; every so often, she came in here looking for programs, then dragged them away. Sometimes the programs she took came back, sometimes they didn’t. While they didn’t pay too much attention to what was going on on the outskirts of the dance floor while they were playing, both of them were unsettled by the hard expression she always wore.

Now, however, that expression was turned directly on them, and the effect was nothing short of terrifying. She smirked a little as they both recoiled. “Now, let’s see. Which one of you is it…?”

1 felt himself freeze. 2 stepped in front of him, trying to block him from the program’s view. “GET OUT” flashed across his helmet. The program laughed harshly. “Step aside, micro. I have no business with you.”

“WHY?” Came the response. The program looked over 2’s head, directly at 1. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the traces of red in your friend’s circuits, or his occasional falling down on the job. He’s corrupted.”

2 looked over at 1. Despite the expressionless helmets, 1 knew that 2 was horrified. 2 turned back to the program and held out his arms. “HE STAYS.”

“I’d like to see you try to stop me,” The program answered, removing her disc, “Look at you. You’re a head shorter than your partner, and you’ve never trained for combat. You wouldn’t stand a chance. Now stand aside.”

2 looked back at 1 again, clearly desperate. 1 touched his shoulder gently. “IT’S OK” scrolled across his visor, even though it was actually anything but. Pushing 2 aside, he stepped forward. “I’LL GO.”

“Smart of you,” the program said, sheathing her disc, “Come on, we need to get back to the cells.”

Grabbing his wrist, she dragged him out of the room. 1 followed numbly, 2’s anguished beeps ringing in his ears. He just hoped that he would be able to come back.

***

Silver was a bit disappointed that the MP3 hadn’t put up much of a struggle. However, once they reached the club proper, she was glad that he wasn’t stupid enough to try to make a break for it. The crowds parted for her, some of them murmuring in shock as they saw the MP3 being taken away.  She gave a satisfied grin when she saw Castor still on the floor where she’d left him. As she reached the door, she tossed the cane to a nearby siren. “A promise is a promise. See you soon, Castor.”

With that, she pulled the MP3 out the door and onto the recognizer. She shoved him into place and restrained him next to the others. After a quick scan of the pad to make sure she’d gotten all the corrupted programs, she grabbed the controls and began the trip back to base. All the other programs moaned, whimpered, pleaded, and otherwise made noises of fear, but the MP3, oddly enough, was quiet. Then again, he might have been swearing at her through his visor, and she just couldn’t see it.

She touched down in the hanger and expertly shackled the programs to each other. “Right this way, programs,” she said in an approximation of a friendly voice, “Each of you will get their own little place to spend the night. Don’t worry, you’ll all be out of there by tomorrow…one way or another.”

She led the programs down the row of cells, unchaining each one and poking them into a cell before activating the force fields. The MP3 was the last one. As she undid his restraints, he stepped meekly into the cell. She nodded her approval as she activated the field. Satisfied at a job well done, she turned to have a well-deserved recharge.

A soft beep from behind her attracted her attention. She turned back to see the MP3 looking at her. “TELL ME HONESTLY,” his visor said, “HOW BAD IS IT?”

She was a little surprised at the question. Most programs either vehemently denied that they were corrupted or resigned themselves to being derezzed the next morning. So she humored the program just this once and looked him over. “Truth be told, program, it’s bad. It doesn’t look too bad on the surface, but I can tell there’s something deeper than that. It’s up to the Users to see if you’re worth salvaging.”

The MP3 said nothing, instead quietly moving to the recharge zone in the corner of the cell. Silver shrugged and left him to his own devices. By the next microcycle, she’d know her orders.

***

The next morning, Sam checked the quarantine box to see what had been caught the day before. Unsurprisingly, the MP3 system was in there. Quickly dealing with the other issues, he set to work trying to figure out what was wrong with the music system. He had experience with programming, and he’d overcome tougher problems than this.

But as the day wore on, Sam couldn’t figure out what was going on. Whatever the problem was, it was buried too deep for him to really get a handle on the root cause. Every time he thought he had the problem, some other issue showed up. Every problem he fixed generated another one 100 lines down. The code was strangely complex for a music player.

By the end of the day, when Tortoise had completed its sweep, Sam still hadn’t figured out the problem. Sighing, he consigned it back to the quarantine box, deciding to sleep on it and give it another shot tomorrow.

***

1 jumped at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, program, it seems that you’re staying here another day.”

1 obligingly got down from the dais. “NOT FIXED?” He queried to the older looking program. The other program shook his head, squinting at 1. “I can tell that the Users have been working on you, but your code is still badly damaged. I honestly don’t know what to tell you. But if anyone can get you back on your feet, it’s the Users.” 1 nodded and went back into his holding cell. At this point, having spent three millicycles in the warm glow of the I/O center, tingling as the unseen Users fiddled with his code, he didn’t have it in him to be afraid. If he was told at this moment that he would be subject to deresolution, he would meet his fate blandly.

A microcyle later, Silver returned to the base, poking a few new programs into their cells. She stopped when she passed by 1’s door. “Still here?” she said, sounding genuinely surprised, “I’d have thought the Users would have made up their minds about you now.”

“Be kind, Silver,” the other program said, “You can see how extensive the damage is. Maybe even the Users have problems with corruption of this magnitude.”

“This has never happened before, Tortoise,” Silver said, as she moved on, “What do you think it means?”

Tortoise looked at 1 sympathetically. “Maybe it means that Users show a bit of compassion when they think its deserved.” Even from within his cell, 1 could hear Silver’s derisive exhale. Still basking in the User glow, however, he ignored her and lay down on the recharge table.

***

“Alan?” Sam knocked on the door to Alan’s office, “You busy?”

“Come in, Sam,” Alan said, and Sam pushed the door open, “What is it?”

“I’m stumped by a programming problem,” Sam said, sitting down on Alan’s couch, “I’ve been wrestling it for a day and a half, but I’m making no headway on it at all. I thought maybe you could take a look at it.”

“Sure,” Alan said, “What’s the problem?”

“It’s the MP3 system that got so glitchy on us after the motherboard issue. I don’t want to delete it if I can help it, but I can’t pinpoint the problem. Could you deal with it while I catch up on my paperwork?”

Alan nodded obligingly and accessed the Quarantine box. Sam smiled in relief. “Thanks, Alan. I owe you one.”

“We’ll talk about that AFTER I’ve looked at the damage.” Alan muttered, clearly in the process of accessing the code. Sure that everything was in the right hands, Sam went back to his office to attempt to be a proper CEO.

But when he went to look in on Alan’s progress at the end of the day, the prognosis wasn’t good. “I don’t know, Sam,” Alan said, shaking his head, “I can fix most of the little problems, but there’s a streak of corrupted code running right through the central core of the program. The best I can do is keep the corruption from spreading, but the music will always be glitchy. Maybe it would be best to admit defeat on this one.”

Sam nodded. “Thanks for trying, Alan. I’ll think it over.”

As he climbed onto his Ducati, Sam mulled it over. If Alan couldn’t fix it, it was likely that nobody could. But it just felt WRONG to delete that program. But he wasn’t sure what else he…

His hand froze on the ignition key. Then he slapped his forehead. “I’m an idiot.” he muttered, before starting up the motorcycle and heading towards the one place where he might be able to solve the problem.

***

“AGAIN???” Silver said, staring at the MP3 sitting mildly in his holding cell, “User, what is going on here? He’s clearly unfit for use, why don’t they just derezz him?”

Tortoise shrugged. “He must have a special use to them.”

“Would that WE were so lucky,” Silver said, rolling her eyes, “I’m not saying I hate my function—far from it—but a bit of acknowledgement would be nice, wouldn’t you think?”

“Don’t speak nonsense, Silver,” Tortoise responded, his normally even tone given a sharp edge, “Users have more important things to do than come down to us personally.”

“It’s happened before,” Silver retorted, gesturing at the MP3, “He’s seen one. Two, if I recall the legends correctly.”

“That was then, during a war. What need would they have to come down in peacetime?”

“All right, maybe they don’t have to come down and speak to us personally,” Silver conceded, “But I’d appreciate a bit of praise from my User. Other than being told I was given a very important function, there’s been silence. And now that they’re keeping corrupted programs active…it just seems like a bit of an affront.”

“There’s nothing we can do about THAT, I’m afraid,” Tortoise said, his even tone returning, “Let it rest for now, Silver. We have to recharge for the next patrol.”

The two of them were halfway through the recharge process when a persistent banging forced Silver awake. “What’s going on?”

Tortoise raised his head blearily. “I’m as baffled as you.”

Silver stood up and approached the front doors. “No one ever comes here on their own initiative. Something must be going on.” Her circuits flashed at the thought; a little bit of action never went amiss.

She pulled open the door and looked at the program who was standing there, looking stern. “Can I help you, program?”

“Is this where you keep the corrupted programs?” the program asked brusquely. She raised her eyebrows. “It is. But if you’re trying to stage a rescue of a friend, it’s pointless. I wouldn’t suggest trying.” Her hand slowly rose, preparing to go for her disc.

The program gave a bit of a smile, holding up his hands in supplication. “I’m not here to break someone out. I’m here to release them.”

“Release them?” Silver laughed, “Look, program, all of them have something wrong with them. Unless they’re cleared by a User, no one leaves here freely except me and Tortoise.”

“Well then…” the program said, taking off his disc and activating the memory files, “Will this allow me entry?”

Silver couldn’t repress a gasp when she saw the unusual lines of coding. This was no new program, this was…

“User,” she said, falling to one knee, “I’m honored that you came to visit us.”

“So, can I come in or what?”

“Of course, of course,” Silver said quickly, standing up and moving aside to allow the User to enter, “If I may, User…who did you come for, and why? No, no, don’t tell me…it’s the MP3, isn’t it? You’ve kept him functioning this long, after all.”

“Right,” the User said, looking around at the holding cells, “Cheery place you’ve got here.”

“What’s the point of dressing it up if programs aren’t going to be here long?”

The User looked at her then, eyes traveling over her in a way that made her feel unsettled. “Where’s the MP3?”

She led him to the proper cell and opened the door for him. The User slid in and gently rested a hand on the MP3’s shoulder to wake him. “If you wouldn’t mind, Silver, I’m going to need to work on him alone.”

“Of course,” she said, giving a semi-bow, “I’ll leave you to your work, User.”

She withdrew, meeting Tortoise’s gaze from the doorway of their recharge room. He was clearly in awe as well. She smiled at him. “I guess I got my wish after all.”

“Let’s leave him be. I’m sure he’ll call for us if he wants us.”

Silver glanced over her shoulder before shutting the door. The User had the MP3’s disc in his hand, and his fingers were gliding over the lines of code, almost as if he were touching them. Regretfully, she closed the door, keeping her word.

***

1 wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he knew from the warmth that he was in the presence of a User. In fact, the User looked oddly familiar.

Not wanting to disturb what the User was doing (it looked very delicate, and that was 1’s code he was examining, after all), but overcome by curiosity, he beeped to catch the other’s attention. When the User turned to him with a cocked eyebrow, 1 flashed across his visor; “SON OF FLYNN?”

“That’s me,” the User acknowledged with a slight smile, “Good to see you remember me. Then again, I guess it would be hard not to, what with the club blowing up and all.”

“CAME DOWN TO FIX ME??????”

“Yeah,” Flynn’s Son acknowledged, returning to 1’s code, “I can’t go into all the details, but let’s just say that there are some Users who really appreciate what you do, and would be very unhappy if you got derezzed.”

1 sat back, marveling at that. Even though all the other programs enjoyed listening to his (and 2’s) music, they often questioned the purpose of keeping around programs with such ultimately useless functions. They thought he didn’t know, but much like his employer, he and 2 made sure to know most of what went on in the End of Line. But now he’d been told that the Users thought he served a very useful function after all. His circuits glowed dimly with pride; if the User could manage it (and surely he could), he would have to relate this to 2.

“Ok,” Flynn’s Son said at last, pulling away and looking over the lines of code, which were now a uniform white, lacking the ugly streak of red that had been there for millicycles, “I *think* I’ve solved the problem. Put it in and see what you think.”

1 took the disc tentatively and reattached it. As he did so, he felt something changing inside him, as though energy was coursing through him and revitalizing him. He wouldn’t know for sure until he was back at his music station, but it felt as though whatever corruption was in him was gone. “BETTER I THINK.” he flashed on his visor.

Flynn’s Son grinned widely. “Great! I’d hoped that maybe mucking about with the code on a personal level would let me find the root of the problem. This is a relief. Man, I can’t wait to see the look on Alan’s face when I tell him…”

1 beeped to get his attention. “THANK YOU. YOU ARE TRULY A USER.”

“Ah, it’s nothing.” said Flynn’s Son, but he looked pleased nonetheless, “You’ll get the all clear to be out by tomorrow.”

***

Sam exited the holding cell, leaving it open, and knocked on the only other door in the place. It was opened by Silver. “Have you finished?” she asked, her voice a little warmer than it had been when he’d met her at the door.

“Yes,” he said, gesturing back at the MP3, “I think I’ve fixed him. You can let him out tomorrow.”

“And if he isn’t fixed, User? What shall I do?”

“Leave him alone. He’s not causing any harm at the moment. It’s only if the corruption starts spreading that you should do something about it.”

“But…our function! If we don’t follow our orders, the other programs might not take us seriously! Would you do that for the sake of one program?”

“Sometimes.” Sam answered, looking her over again. Man, this one could rival the old Black Guards for adherence to function. What made her that way? Surely she hadn’t been programmed for the purpose.

Then it hit him, and he almost slapped his forehead right then and there, but restrained himself (who knows what the programs would think he was doing). If Users left a little bit of themselves in their programs, then surely the feelings they were having at the time would be predominant in the program’s personality. Daisy Davidson was the only high-level female programmer, and was thirsty to prove herself. He’d heard rumors that she’d been fighting tooth and nail to get her anti-virus system approved, and had been extremely proud when it had been chosen. That desire to please her CEO and show the others that she was just as capable as they must have rubbed off on her program. God only knew what the other programs thought when they saw *this* bearing down on them.

Silver was looking at him curiously. He shook his head and gave her a little smile. “Listen, uh, Silver, you’re doing a fine job at rounding up corrupted programs. And Tortoise, you’re great at finding them. Your functions are essential to User work. And if any program suggests otherwise, you can tell them what I just said. The MP3 can back me up on it. You don’t need to be so concerned. Really.”

Silver’s expression returned to its old severity, but her posture relaxed ever so slightly. Sam nodded; it was a start, at least. “Listen, I need to go. Portal limit and all that. Just, uh, keep on doing what you’re doing.”

Silver dropped to one knee again. “Yes, User. Thank you for coming here.”

He gave a bit of a wave and headed back outside, pulling out his lightcycle baton. His first order of business tomorrow, after checking that the music system was working and lording over Alan a little, was to call Davidson into his office and find some way to reassure her that her position was secure. Maybe after that, he could convince her to make a few modifications on Silver that would keep the program’s efficiency while also calming her down a little.

***

“Well, what do you make of that?” Tortoise asked Silver, who had gotten to her feet to watch the User depart, “Praise from the User himself.”

“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Silver answered, unable to restrain a grin, “We serve important functions. He approves.”

“That should keep the rumors spreading for the next twenty cycles or so,” Tortoise said, as he pulled on his coat, “And your reputation is probably going to get even more terrifying to the smaller ones.”

Silver grinned, circuits flashing her approval. “Oh, this next batch is going to be fun to bring in, that’s for sure.”

Tortoise moved past her. “My patrol will be beginning soon. I’d better get ready. Will you do me a favor and return all the restored programs today? I’m only three-quarters recharged.”

“Of course,” Silver said, “Feel free to take some time and have a drink at the End of Line to get the rest of your energy back. It’ll give you a chance to tell the story.”

He smiled affectionately at her. “If the slightest opening comes up, I will. Maybe I’ll wait until our MP3 here is working again.”

***

1 sat in the recognizer with several other programs, no longer restrained, but allowed to freely move about. He preferred to sit, humming with excitement over returning to the End of Line. He was positive that everything would run smoothly again, like it had been doing for cycles. And 2…2 would probably smack him on the helmet for keeping his corruption a secret, but then all would be well.

The Recognizer touched down in front of the club. “Everyone off!” Silver called, a note of amusement in her voice, “Go have a drink to celebrate your freedom, and stay out of trouble. I don’t want to see ANY of you” and here she looked at 1, “back in the holding cells for a long time, if ever.” 1 gave a bleep that indicated that the feeling was mutual, then stepped off the platform and made his way inside with the others.

The first thing he saw was that the music booth was still blacked out. The second thing he saw was Zuse running towards him. “Oh, thank goodness you’re back! Business has been TERRIBLE since you were dragged off! I just can’t get any music out of your partner at all. I think he’s sulking. People come here for energy drinks and the company of the sirens, of course, but it’s just not the same. Get up there right now and electrify them again, will you?”

“YES SIR!” 1 answered, running around to the back way to access the booth. Behind him, he heard a chorus of “Welcome back” from the sirens, and his circuits went a little violet; he’d been sorely missed, it seemed.

But when he made a soft beeping noise into the darkness of the music booth, and saw the stream of exclamation points rolling across 2’s helmet, he felt like he’d really received a hero’s welcome.

***

Maybe it was just their delight at having music back after a two-day absence, but all the ENCOM staff reported that the music played better than ever that day. The employees who used the shuffle function, however, were a bit puzzled at the high ratio of love songs that were played.


End file.
